Second Night (42 page)

Bryony rolled her eyes, bored to sobs even thinking about Carl. ‘What are you getting me this year, Granddad?'

Percy's eyes disappeared into little angry slits. ‘A skiing trip with your mother! Or had you forgotten?'

‘That's just a holiday. It doesn't count as a present.'

‘What else is it then?'

She pushed the potatoes to the side of the plate and skewered the peas one at a time. ‘A present is something you unwrap.'

‘Then I'd better nip across the road and ask old Si if he's got a box big enough to pack in a mountain, hotel and a ski lift,' answered her grandfather sourly.

Bryony tossed her head and raised meaningful eyebrows at her mother. Genista shrugged and mouthed
‘drop it'
over her fork. Percy tried lifting his glass, but his hand shook and the beer slopped over the table.

‘Now look what's done!' he exclaimed angrily.

Ivy ran for a cloth to mop it up. Genista got a drinking straw from the packet in the sideboard and dropped it into the glass, ignoring her father's malevolent stare.

‘Try that,' she said, smirking. ‘Don't worry, Dad, we won't tell anyone down the pub.'

‘And you'd better not,' he said.

CHAPTER 71

Mirror Girl agreed with Bryony that Caz was out of school for good. After a whole week without even a glimpse of him in class, she was completely desperate.

She had never felt so alone in her entire life. Jen was offline and not taking any calls. The new business was at a total standstill. Gin was ‘in love' and certain for an invite to the manor party, and Shriek only wanted to talk about going to New York for Christmas. Worse, what if Skinflint decided to put his hand in his pocket and send Caz to private school? The idea of all those rich girls fawning over him was an absolute nightmare.

Mirror Girl did her best to comfort her. ‘Don't worry, Bryony. Soon you'll have lots of friends, more than you've ever had before. All your wishes will come true and all your prayers will be answered.'

‘Will they really?' she asked. ‘All of them?'

Mirror Girl nodded. ‘All of them.'

Wishing Granddad would hurry up and get back to business didn't seem to be working out though. He sucked the beer up the straw, grunting between gulps. When the glass was empty he sat back in his chair, patting his belly and belching. ‘That's better.'

Ivy picked up his empty plate. ‘What can I fetch you, Perce?'

‘Spuds and crackling. And lay off that gravy, will you?' He glared at Bryony. ‘What's going on with my Jeep?'

‘I told you, Carl's going to bring it round as soon as it's done.'

‘What did he say about those airbags not working?'

‘They're fixing them.'

‘They'd better fix ‘em quick then. I've got a load of deliveries to get sorted.'

‘We're still mobile,' Genista reminded him, referring to the black four-wheel drive on loan from the garage and parked in the front garden.

‘I don't work out of a hearse,' replied her father testily.

‘Well, I'll drive it then. I'm not fussy.'

‘And what about getting you down the hospital in the week?' asked Ivy. 'You've got your appointment with the specialist, Perce. He's private, remember. You can't miss that. It'll cost us a fortune if you do.'

‘I'll get a taxi.'

‘And what about the deliveries?' asked his daughter unperturbed.

Ivy tut-tutted nervously. ‘Don't fuss your father, girl, not while he's poorly.'

Percy scratched under his beard where the neck brace was rubbing his chin. ‘Young Carl'll just have to get his finger out. I want that wagon back a.s.a.p.'

Bryony pushed away her plate, the food barely touched. ‘How am I supposed to deliver the parish magazines?'

‘You'll have to wait.'

‘I can't wait. I promised Reverend Adrian I'd get them out this week.'

Percy growled, ‘Then he'll have to wait as well, won't he?'

‘He can't. It's too near Christmas. The church needs a new roof. He's got to fundraise.'

Percy thumped the table. ‘No one in this family drives that black thing! Not even if God himself walks in this room and gets down on his knees and begs us! It's all Reverend Adrian this, Reverend Adrian that with you two, isn't it? Are you finished planting your backsides up the old church for the day now? Or have you put yourselves down for the cleaning and all? You'll be washing his underpants next thing I know!'

Genista sniffed and looked superior. ‘Everyone prayed for you at the end of the service this morning. Even Fig Petter and Louisa Renfrew asked after you and said they hoped you were feeling better. You should have been there, Dad. It would have done you good.'

‘I did myself more good staying in bed and I'll be fit a lot quicker for it, I can tell you! I'll get those magazines out in time. The old roof has sat on that church all my years and it can wait alongside of me while that garage finishes mucking about with my Jeep.'

‘I'll take the bike then,' said Bryony, referring to the new and unused bicycle that had been left in the garden shed for over a year.

Percy snorted, ‘Lady Muck on a bike? The chance'll be a fine thing, I must say.'

‘How else am I going to do all the posh houses while you're stuck in here whinging?'

Percy's face paled. He had managed to drive the Jeep home but he hadn't said where he was when the accident happened. He would never tell why it had happened. There were any number of walls around the village he could have run into, and anyone was likely to come across the odd patch of ice out on the road at that time of night in December. No one had complained and the police weren't involved. The insurance would cover the bill and that would be the end of it.

‘Now you listen to me, my girl,' he said. ‘If you are intending traipsing up the manor while I'm laid up, you've got another think coming. Do you hear me?'

Bryony appealed to her mother and grandmother. ‘What's he going on about now? I've been up there enough times before. Has he gone queer in the head, or what?'

‘I don't know!' cried Ivy. ‘How should I know? Just leave him alone, the pair of you, and let him get well.'

Percy bunched a fist and smashed it down hard on the table so that the plates rattled and the salt pot fell off and spilled all over the carpet.

‘No one in this family is setting foot on that land or having anything to do with anyone up that godforsaken place ever again!' he shouted, pointing a shaking finger at Bryony. ‘And you can put any fancy ideas you've got about titles and being Lady Muck out of your head for good and all.'

‘You can't tell me what to do!'

‘Oh, can't I?' Percy's voice was shrill. ‘As long as you're under my roof, supping at my table and preening about in the clothes I've put on your back, you're beholden to me and you'll do as I say! I know what's good for this family and you'll pay heed. Stay out of that place! If you don't, I'll skin the hide off you! You'll see if I don't!'

Bryony jumped up, her eyes blazing. ‘Just you try laying one lousy finger on me! Just you try it! I'm sixteen! I can do what I want and there's nothing you can do or say about it!'

‘Oh, isn't there?' yelled Percy. ‘I can tell young Carl what you've got in mind with that young devil worshipper up the manor! That'll put paid to your diamond crucifixes for Christmas! You won't be getting nothing but a kick up the backside and good riddance to you!'

‘So tell him! I don't care! He's more use to you than he is to me! You tell him and see how long it takes to get your precious Jeep back!' She ran out of the room, stamping up the stairs and shouting, ‘Caz isn't a devil-worshipper! Don't you ever say he is! Not ever, ever, ever!'

Genista and Ivy exchanged looks. A bedroom door slammed. Music turned up on full bass thumped the ceiling. Percy sighed wearily and gave Genista his glass. ‘Be a good lass and fetch me over another pint, will you?'

He held out a hand to his wife. ‘Help me get to me chair, old girl,' he said fondly.

‘Bry don't mean badly by you, Perce,' said Ivy anxiously. ‘She'll soon come round.'

‘But I mean what I say. Our family's finished with that place for good and all, Ive. We've got to be. We can't risk having another one of us going off like young Tom.'

She set him in his chair by the gas fire and put his feet on a stool.

‘None of us'll be going anywhere, don't you fret,' she said. ‘Now what else can I get you? A cup of tea? A bit of sweet?'

‘A bit of sweet would go down nicely.'

‘What about a bit of ice cream?'

‘That and one of them chocolate bars you've got hidden away for Christmas.'

‘I'll have it done in a jiffy.'

‘You can give us the whisky too, while you're about it.'

He took a long swig out of the bottle, gazing at the red light flickering around the coal-effect on the fire. It was warm red light – not spooky, scary blue. He decided he wouldn't close his eyes again until he was too drunk to care.

CHAPTER 72

Caz knew something was wrong the minute he walked into the kitchen. The fire in the range had been left to burn too low and a pan of potatoes had boiled dry on the hob. He tipped the potatoes into a bowl and threw the pan into the sink. A cloud of acrid steam pervaded the kitchen while he searched the sculleries, calling out, ‘Daisy! Daisy, where are you?'

There was no sign of her anywhere. He ran down the passage to the office but the light was turned off and the door was shut. Back in the kitchen he noticed the cellar door had been left ajar. He picked up on her heartbeat as soon as he got to the bottom of the steps. It was shallow, fluttering like a bird facing death in a trap. She was somewhere in the vault.

He punched in the entry code on the security door, calling her name again as he ran through the armoury into the hall. ‘Daisy! Where are you?'

‘I'm here.'

She was lying on the floor behind the door in the vestibule. There was a strong smell of spilt mead. He spoke through the crack. ‘What's happened, Daisy?'

‘I've slipped,' she said pathetically. ‘I was mopping up the floor and went straight down on my backside.'

‘How long have you been here?'

‘I don't know. Perhaps an hour, I'm not sure. I'm so cold.'

‘Have you broken anything?'

‘I think it's my arm.'

‘Can you push yourself away from the door enough to let me in?'

‘Of course I can.' He heard her scolding herself. ‘Come on, you foolish old woman. Get yourself going. Do it. Do it, I say!'

When the shuffling stopped he opened the door. Daisy was sitting propped up against the wall cradling her left arm across her chest. The skin was intact but her fingers were already beginning to swell. He knew one of the bones was shattered. He squatted down beside her.

‘Don't worry,' he said, ‘we'll soon get you fixed up.'

He fetched a strip of soft cloth from the armoury and bound her arm to her chest. The pain lessened immediately.

‘That feels better already,' she said gratefully. ‘But we should get a poultice on it as soon as we can.'

‘Do you have pain anywhere else?'

‘No, I don't think so. It's my own fault. I had too many things going on in my head all at once and look where it got me.'

Caz grinned. ‘That's a Guardian thing. It's all part of the job.'

‘Except that we're not supposed to fall flat and make such a fuss while we're doing it,' she answered miserably. ‘I'm so cross with myself, young Caz.'

‘Don't be. You'll mend soon enough.'

‘But not in time for Hag Night, or for the party afterwards.' She looked horrified. ‘What are we going to do?'

‘We'll do just fine,' he said calmly. ‘You'll see.' He touched the wedding ring on her finger. ‘I'm going to have to take this off before the swelling goes any further. I'll try not to hurt you.'

‘Oh my goodness!' she exclaimed, looking properly at her hand for the first time since she had fallen. ‘Yes, get it off quick! I don't want them cutting it off in the hospital. That ring has never left my finger since the day John and me were married.' Tears welled up in her eyes. She began to shake. ‘I suppose I'll have to go down the hospital now, won't I?'

He nodded. ‘I'm afraid so. Be brave.' He wet her finger and gently worked the ring over her swollen knuckle. She gasped and then sighed with relief when it was done. But she was worried because she couldn't stop shivering.

‘I don't understand why I'm so cold,' she said, her teeth chattering. ‘Is there something gone wrong with the system down here? We should check it out before we go upstairs.'

‘The system's working fine, Daisy. It's you that's cold. You're in shock. Are you okay for me carrying you upstairs?'

‘Yes, but first we've got to sort out the mess I've made.'

‘I'll come back later and see to it.'

‘No,' she said firmly. ‘I don't leave this place until everything's straight down here. It'll only take a minute.'

He shook his head. ‘You're hopeless, Daisy.'

‘I'm a Guardian. The day I forget my duty I'll be under the sod, young Caz.'

There was no arguing with that. He finished mopping the floor and emptied the bucket in the sink.

‘Now put your good arm around my neck,' he said. He swung her up in his arms, surprised at how light and fragile she was. ‘How old are you, Daisy?'

‘I was born in Year 80,' she said quietly. ‘The year before Sir Saxon died.'

He did a quick calculation. ‘You're sixty-eight.'

She nodded. ‘John's a few days short of a year older than me. We used to celebrate our birthdays together when we were younger. We don't bother so much now.'